by Wendy Knight
After several long seconds of anger-filled silence, Jace said, "Harli. Talk to me."
"I'm poison."
"What does that mean?"
She shook her head.
"Harli, I know you're not mean. I don't understand, and I'm really trying, sweetheart. Talk to me."
His phone rang. Swearing, Jace picked it up as he parked the car in his driveway. Harli pushed her door open and sat there, wondering what on earth she was supposed to do now. She was too tired to run.
"Yeah, I found her. I don't know, some guy from the gas station called me and I found her wandering barefooted down the road."
Harli followed him mutely, her brain on autopilot.
"No, she's in bad shape. Dehydrated, freezing, her feet are all torn up." He was quiet, listening, as he let her in the house. Miraculously, his dad and five sisters all seemed to be gone. "I said no, Colin."
She looked up at his sharp tone. Scowling, he handed her the phone. She raised it slowly to her ear, ready for more anger. "Hello."
"Harli, you need to come to Ohio."
"What?" she asked, nearly choking on her swollen tongue. She could hear it in his voice. Something was wrong.
You saved Levi before. You need to do it again.
Levi.
Levi was in trouble.
"He's crazy drunk, Harli. And he won't stop. He's busted up his hotel room, got us thrown out of the place. We had to cancel our concert tonight. We have him corralled in a bar right now, but he's smashing everything he touches. You've gotta get here, now."
"Okay. I'll—I'll use my—"
"Michael's calling in a favor. There's a jet waiting for you at the Heber City airport. Hurry up, Harli. He's in bad shape. I don't know what he'll do."
"I'm on my way."
She hung up and spun on Jace. "I need you to take me to the airport."
"Harli, you're exhausted. And hurt. We need to—"
She shook her head, already backing out the door. "I have to go now, Jace. Levi's in trouble."
Jace sighed in defeat, his head falling to his chest. "Okay. Let me grab you some of my sister's clothes. You can sleep on the plane."
She climbed back into his car, tapping her hands nervously against the dashboard. Jace reappeared a minute later and climbed in next to her. He handed her a water bottle and a muffin. "I'm going with you."
"What?"
"You're not going alone, Harli."
She shook her head, trying not to devour the muffin like an animal. "You have class, Jace."
Jace snorted. "Harli, I'm at your school more than I'm at mine. How do you not realize I don't care about my classes?"
"Jace." She paused in her rabid eating. "You can't not go to class. Your mom—"
"My mom wanted me to be happy. Happy is not at college, Harli," he said quietly.
Harli curled her knees up to her chest. She felt like she was broken, the world was broken, everything was broken. "I'm poison."
"What?"
"Everything I touch. I ruin."
"You're obviously sleep-deprived. Get some rest, Harli. We'll talk about this later."
She let her head fall against the window, but the tears she'd been fighting for so long finally won and blurred her vision.
Chapter Twenty Six
LEVI COULDN'T MAKE HIS CASTED HAND hold his shot glass or the vodka bottle, and his other hand was bleeding, but he couldn't remember why.
Nor did he care.
He wasn't entirely sure how he was still upright on his stool. He wasn't a drinker. He'd stayed far away from everything that reminded him of his mom, but somehow he was still conscious.
Too conscious. Whoever said to drink troubles away was full of shit. He could still think and still feel, and the pain was eating him alive.
And being drunk didn't make Harli's actions any more fathomable.
He did remember punching Michael once, when his manager had the balls to tell him to get his shit together. He wasn't sure if he'd fired Michael or Michael had fired him after that. Whichever it was, Michael was no longer affiliated with Shattered Assassin.
He might have hit Graham once, too. He couldn't remember. He hoped so.
His bottle was empty.
Swearing, he flung the bottle at the floor and went around the counter to get more alcohol. Eventually he would drink himself into oblivion, wouldn't he?
There were no more bottles. "This is a bar!" he bellowed. "Where's all the alcohol?" He flung his shot glass at the mirror, watching in satisfaction as it shattered.
"Levi."
He saw her in the shards of mirror, standing behind him.
"Go to hell, Harli."
Watching her in shards was worse than watching her in person, because when he hurt her, he saw it on a thousand faces instead of one.
"Levi, I just want to talk to you."
"Oh yeah?" He spun on her, slamming his hands on the bar, barely registering the pain. "So talk. You gonna tell me how you love me and we can be together and then take off when I'm not looking? That's your M.O., isn't it?"
"No. That isn't what I need to say, Levi." She glanced over her shoulder, and he followed her gaze. Behind her, on the other side of the open window, he could see Colin, Jace, and Dorian.
She turned back to him and took a step closer. "You're bleeding."
"So?"
"Stop acting like a baby, Levi. Sit down," she snapped.
Scowling, he came around the counter, jerked the stool out and plunked down on it. "Happy?"
"No."
It was only when he was this close that he could see how bad she looked. Circles like bruises under her eyes, her cheeks pale under smeared makeup. Her hair was dirty, covered in red dust, like she'd spent the night rolling in the hills that surrounded their town. "What happened to you?" he asked.
She went around the bar and turned on the coffeemaker. He watched while she got ice out of the machine and wrapped it in a rag. Slowly, she came back around to him, pulling his un-casted, bloody hand to her chest. Standing between his legs, she dabbed at his torn knuckles.
"You can't do this, Levi," she said quietly.
He snorted, trying half-heartedly to pull his hand back. "You've never been my girlfriend, Harli. You have no right to tell me what I can't do."
She looked up from his knuckles. "Stop it, Levi."
"No. No, because when I'm nice to you, you run. Maybe if I'm an asshole, you'll stay."
She raised his knuckles to her lips and kissed them gently. "That isn't why I ran last night."
He watched her, watched her lips, felt an ache that would have dropped him to his knees if he was standing up. "Then why, Harli? Was I not good enough? Did I—"
"I'm poison, Levi."
"Bull shit, Harli. You just let her tell you that so you have a reason to keep everybody out."
She clenched her teeth. "Yeah. That's what it is."
Harli left him, poured the coffee, and brought it back. "Levi, I'm going to tell you this one time. You're going to stop being a butthead and listen. Got it?" She thrust the hot cup into his hands and all he could do was stare stupidly.
"I still love you. I will always love you. No matter what, or how long. It doesn't go away, it doesn't die, it doesn't lessen. It is always there, and it scares me to death. It scares me so much that all I try to do is be worthy of that love, and I'm not. I try, and I'm not."
"Harli," he started, but she cut him off.
"Our lives aren't on the same path anymore, Levi. And I am not going to be responsible for holding you back. We — what we had — it's not normal. It's not something I will ever find again. But that doesn't mean that I'm going to hold onto it while I ruin your life. You have to let me go, Levi."
"Or what? You'll run again? You'll stomp on my heart with your dagger heels?"
"Or nothing. You just have to, Levi." Her voice was soft, and tears slowly snaked down her cheek, through the dirt.
"No." He folded his arms across his chest. "I'm not gonna let y
ou go. You can run all you want. I'll come after you, Harli."
She bit her trembling lip. "There are people who depend on you. You have to pull yourself together and be the Levi who would never let them down."
He stared back at her. "No."
"Levi." She sobbed, pressed her clenched fist to her mouth and closed her eyes, and fought for control. There was so much pain in her face that it shattered what was left of his heart. "Levi, you have to let me go."
Somewhere, in the rational, not-drunk, not broken part of him, he could see how much he was hurting her. How much she was hurting her.
This was killing her as much as it was killing him.
"I can't do this to you, Levi. Not anymore."
He couldn't keep hurting her. Somewhere, deep, deep down inside him, he found strength. "Okay, Harli."
If he'd thought there was pain before, the agony that shot across her eyes was a lifetime worse.
"I'll let you go. On one condition."
She nodded, swallowing hard. He could feel her, against the inside of his legs, trembling. "What condition is that?"
He saw it, in her face. A part of her, the weak part, was begging him to fight for them. It was the same part of her soul as the part of his soul that was begging him not to say what he was going to say.
But they both knew what had to happen. This wasn't working. It was so much pain, too much drama. They were killing each other. He slowly reached up and brushed the tears off her cheek with his knuckle. "You know, Harli — you know you're my angel. My Sunshine. I don't know how I'll do this without you."
She sobbed and he pulled her against him. She rested her forehead against his collarbone. "I'll let you go, Harli. But only if you go to your audition."
She raised her head, dark eyes confused through the tears. "Audition?"
"We scheduled you an audition with Julliard. Day after tomorrow. Your grandma bought you the plane ticket and booked the hotel room. She's meeting you there."
"What?" she whispered, horror blooming across her cheeks as she stumbled backward.
He shrugged, and it hurt. A lot. He gave one short, harsh bark of laughter. "We thought you and I would be riding off into the sunset right about now, and you'd happily go to your audition. Couldn't have been more wrong, could I?"
"Levi, I can't. You know I can't—"
"Knock it off, Harli. You want me to let you go? Fine. But you have to let Selicia go first." He glared and tried not to see the pain that had returned to her eyes, or the way she was trembling and looked damn near to collapsing.
Harli wrapped her arms around herself, like she was literally trying to hold herself together, and he felt like more of a jerk than he had thirty seconds ago. And he'd felt pretty low thirty seconds ago. He got up, wondering how it was that he only felt angry, not confused, not slurred or blurry after all that alcohol. "Harli." Maybe it was years and years of trying to hold onto her and failing. Maybe it had all crashed down around him at once. He loved her, yes. But he was so angry.
She looked up at him, and he could see the monumental effort she made to not cry. "You're my soulmate, Harli. There will never be anyone else for me. But if you think this is what we have to do, I'll let you go. All you have to do is audition for Julliard."
She broke. Her knees buckled and she collapsed to the floor, her hands covering her face as sobs shook her entire frame. He knelt next to her and pulled her into his lap, her head against his chest, and he stroked her tangled, dirty hair. He would have stayed like that for eternity, if it meant keeping her with him.
But it couldn't happen. "Harli." He lifted her chin and she raised her face, her lips trembling. "Tell me you'll audition."
She searched his face for several long, painful seconds, before she finally nodded. "Okay," she whispered. "Okay."
Swallowing, she leaned up and kissed him gently, so gently, and then she struggled to her feet. "I love you, Levi Vasi."
He stayed where he knelt on the floor, and watched her go while every single cell inside him screamed to go after her.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
"ARE YOU NERVOUS?" JOANN ASKED, RUBBING Harli's shoulders.
Harli forced a smile as she twisted her head so she could see her grandmother behind her. "Yeah."
"You'll be great. Just don't let them scare you. Remember who you are."
Harli, despite herself, burst out laughing. "You sound like a cartoon, Grand—Grandma." It still felt weird calling her anything but JoAnn.
Weird and good.
"I mean it! You come from a long line of music lovers, and you are one of the most sensational prodigies ever witnessed. It said so on the Forums."
Harli still smiled, but dropped her head into her hands. It was too much effort to hold it up.
"The Forums never lie." JoAnn nudged her.
Harli sucked in a deep breath. I am so scared.
"You'll blow them away, Harli."
"Thanks, Angie," Harli whispered, pushing herself to her feet. Looking up at JoAnn, she asked, "Is it time?"
JoAnn nodded.
She had her guitar and her flute. Everything else had stayed at home, and she was borrowing the school's. She picked up her bags and started forward, her shoes clicking on the laminate flooring.
"Harliquin Lee. I have an appointment at two." Harli hid her shaking hands so the receptionist couldn't see them.
"Hold your head up, Harli."
Harli raised her chin.
"Right through those doors, Ms. Lee. Good luck," the receptionist hit the button and the doors unlocked. Holding tight to her guitar case with sweaty fingers, Harli went inside. JoAnn couldn't go in with her. She waited in the lobby, and Harli went forward alone.
Instruments were set up on the stage, waiting. A piano and drums. Precious drums. Seeing them felt like finding friends in a war. Comfort. Safety.
Courage.
Three people — two women and a man, sat in the seats below, looking over their clipboards. Feeling Angie's cold hand guiding her, Harli made her way to the center stage and set down her guitar case. "Hi."
The judges looked up. "Hello, Ms. Lee. Go ahead and start whenever you're ready."
Harli swallowed. "Actually, I would like your help, if possible."
Three sets of raised eyebrows. "We aren't allowed—"
Harli held up a hand, rushing on. "I just—my talent—I can play almost anything after hearing it once. I just—I was hoping you could hum something for me to play. Anything. It's the best way to display my talents."
"Okay," the man said slowly, glancing at the other judges. "Like a ten second clip?"
Harli shook her head. "As long as you can go."
The woman stood up. "We actually have an arrangement one of our classes is working on. No one has heard it. I could play that for you, if you'd like." She held up a thumb drive and met Harli's gaze, a small, challenging smile curving up her lips.
Harli nodded.
The woman plugged it into her laptop and pushed buttons Harli couldn't see. After several agonizing seconds, the music started. Harli closed her eyes, watching it fall into place on the blueprint in her head. It was beautiful, slow and haunting.
It reminded her of Levi. Of that last day with him in the bar. The music pulled at her heart, twisted it, tangled it with her soul. A tear slowly escaped and traced its way down her cheek, and she prayed the judges couldn't see it.
Three minutes and twenty-seven seconds later, the song ended. She opened her eyes. "Thank you. If it's okay, I would like to play bits of it on different instruments."
All three judges dubiously nodded. "Go ahead, Ms. Lee."
Harli started at the piano, her fingers flying over the ivory keys, recreating the melody. Thirty seconds of that, and she moved on to her flute, and then the guitar, and ended with her drums, tapping out the melody.
And then she had to meet the judges' eyes. Playing had been the easy part. Talking to people was the hard part. Especially when these people held her dreams — the one
thing she'd wanted in her life but had never dared pursue — they held that in their hands.
I'm gonna throw up.
"Suck it up, Buttercup. You're almost done."
Harli's hands twisted, shaking, behind her back.
"We've seen you," one of the women said, "on the Forums. But it does not do justice to your actual talent. That was astounding, Ms. Lee."
Harli hid a smile and forced her feet to remain firmly rooted to the floor. "Thank you."
"We have to deliberate and go over our notes. You should receive a reply in a few weeks."
Harli nodded, too fast, so she looked like a bobble-head. "Okay. Thank you. Thank you so much."
They smiled.
Smiles meant good things, right? With one last "Thank you," she packed her guitar away and tucked her flute in its pouch, and then she ran off stage. Her heels sounded like drums themselves, and for a second, she wondered if that was how dancers danced. By the music their feet made.
And then she tripped and nearly face-planted into the wall, and she was very glad she wasn't a dancer.
"How did it go?" JoAnn met her in the lobby, rising to her feet as soon as Harli stumbled out.
"Good! I mean, I think it went good. I didn't mess up, and they smiled, and said they'd heard of me but the Forums didn't do me justice—" she paused for a much-needed breath. Suddenly, she was very lightheaded and black splotches swam across her vision.
"I did it," she whispered.
"I told you you could do it."
JoAnn crushed her in a hug. "Yes you did. Let's go celebrate."
They went shopping. JoAnn bought her things for her dorm room, despite Harli's objections. Would it jinx her, to buy things for a room in a school she hadn't gained admittance to yet?
But JoAnn's confidence rubbed off on her. They bought a lamp, bedding, a chair, a bookshelf. New clothes, new shoes, new makeup. They went and got their hair done and their nails done. They got pedicures and went to tea at a high-end restaurant where they had to wear fancy hats.
Harli hadn't had so much fun since she'd been in Georgia. And before that, she hadn't had so much fun in a long, long time.